in a perfect world

in a perfect world
I would have kissed you

1000 times before the posters
you learned

from fell

we could have discovered strawberries
together

made love without touching
and flew across the world

with fingers
pointing out all the places

we were going to
eat dessert at

in a perfect world we would have
made really bad bread together

and lied about it
then

make really really good bread

in a perfect world I would have found you
sooner

before it was too late

I would rather pass
The Bowl of chance
then taste the lips of indiscretion agian.
The weather will not take the chance
and none of us
can wait for the text to send.

pay day

i remember when the silver turned
happenstance

fellow merchants wore their
collars low

falling short of the belly's
taunts of real

and we drank gin with gin
in donation of the will.

and time grew past the front steps
of the house we

grew up in

time left out thoughts for
the unthought of

leaving

leaving our eyes to color
lines-

coloring dominate

coloring-

coloring situational commentary
a touch late
like a tapped foot
to in charge
but

the lottery says hi.

and we all are getting paid tomorrow.

we're going to need more blankets

we're going to need more blankets

one lot

one lot they share between
the bushels of oil

and amber serenades of red locked
hypnotists parading

jealousy and
anti-jealousy

sown inside the same headlock

them feeding breadless loafs to every mouth
who will feed.

and the sherif is salivating Hamptons
and pissing on the street

like we used to do
when we drank to much of ourselves

one lot we give in retribution
for when it was our turn.

ties, the know and tunnels

I imagine life's sown sanctuary
collar tied around thieves

tied around the planks of wooden
castigates

they use to corrupt

and the horny stones tied brightness
they throw at slaves

blinding hindsight
to see the know.

And the slaves who answer
their wounds with wounds

for the know.

the know that can't be known
unless the dog has been walked

first to the street corner where nightingales
broom

the allies with their hair
and breasts

for cigarettes and the know.
i imagine

this from the angle of a beetle
who is starring

at you
starring at me

and the know that eludes us both.
the beetle is trapped

by size
we are trapped by size

and the tunnels
we hide

tunneling southern rocket fuel
tunneling salamander red
tunneling to keep the fire's fumes
at bay.